Never Sent But Still Received
by Skye-Birdy
Summary: AU Before Vaugh finds out laurens evil. the Sv is starting to show a little more.
1. thoughts of a traitor

Disclaimer These characters DO NOT belong to me. They just happen to belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot and ABC. However, I they did belong to me, Alias would be a sucky sappy soap opera with too many people talking about their feelings.  
  
A/N: I'm really not sure how I got this idea, but You never know what I'll come up with when I'm insanely bored. You should see some of my poems that I right when I'm really bored. Lets just say they're very interesting. Also, this is a shorter chapter that I felt the urge to write right now and get it out there to see what people think while I continue with my longer chapters.  
  
I sat at the coffee table, a large bundle of letters sitting in front of me. My curiosity begged me to rip open the letters and soak up the words and the go yell at my husband for, well, whatever these letters are. Then there was my fear. My fear told me to put the letters away and just not ever read and never find out what it was. Inside those letters could be the key to whatever the hell was wrong with our relationship, and my reading them would send us into a tailspin downwards into a pit of divorce and broken hearts. Or maybe, just one broken heart.  
I was never supposed to fall in love with Michael Vaughn. He was only an assignment, another step towards being the big boss, the leader. But then I met him, and at first I only sort of pitied him. I mean, he was trading in one drama for the next. Of course he didn't intend to. He only thought he was getting over his dead spy girlfriend and becoming a normal person again. And he was. He was just dating, then in a relationship with, then engaged to and eventually married to me. The traitor.  
I used to always tell myself that I wasn't really a traitor because I really did love him. Which is true, I am in love with my husband. In a normal situation, that would be very good news. Normal people are usually very content being in love with their spouse. Usually the troubles start if you don't love your spouse. But that's the thing about me- I was never very normal. But one day I woke up and realised, that by loving Michael, it made me more of a traitor than anything ever could. I love him, and I play him in every single way possible. To be a traitor, there has to be something to betray. Every single day, I go to work and find new ways betray my love for Michael.  
So, no matter what the letters say, whether they say that he never loved me at all or that he was always in contact with Sydney and married me to "keep up appearances" and doesn't give a crap about my feelings, it will probably never be as awful as what I did to him. I took another long stare at the pile of letters.  
Julia Thorne was never supposed to be a problem for me. She was just another body on our side, the only difference was she was once one of those damn good guys. But that had nothing to do with Me or my life at the time. But the one day Julia disappeared and Sydney Bristow came back from the dead. I used to think that the day Sydney reappeared something changed in Michael. I recently gave it some more thought. About two weeks before she came back it was like something had woken up inside him. He became sweeter and cheerier and more loving and I soaked up every moment of it. I completely turned off Little Miss Evil Spy Lauren and turned into the hopeless romantic who loved sappy movies Lauren that I used to be before I realised what my mother had planned for my life. It was actually the day Sydney appeared in Hong Kong that Michael changed back into his old self. He still loved me (at least I'm pretty sure) but the sweetness dropped to an almost clipped level and his cheeriness turned to stress. I wanted to help him. I needed to really help him get over Sydney, to save our relationship. I constantly have an awful pit in my stomach which tells me I failed to do that.  
My fingers began to move before me and they picked up the first letter and opened the envelope.  
  
A/N: So that was the first chapter. I don't like it so much, but I tried, and that's what counts isn't it? Seeya. 


	2. secrets

Disclaimer: None of it belongs to me, except maybe the plot of this little scenario, and it all Bad Robot, JJ Abrams, and ABC who get to own it  
  
A/N: Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers, You're all so sweet. Anyways, on with the story.  
  
I watched her opening the envelope. I probably should have stopped her, or at least did something, but I just sat there. She would probably interpret them all wrong and get royally pissed at me and maybe even want get divorced. But then I would talk it over with her rationally, and tell her the truth, and everything would be better. But would it? Did I want to make everything better? Yes, I told myself. Of course I want it to work out, I love her. She's my wife. But another voice at the back of my mind said. Then why don't you go in there and stop her? That I wasn't sure of. Was it because I really wanted to be with Sydney? I don't think so. I mean, I love my wife. I just said that I love my wife. Why did I have to keep reminding myself of this? I'm not unhappy in my relationship. Maybe I just can't keep this a secret.  
This is most likely the reason. I despise secrets. I find secrets evil. That sounds kind of stupid and childish, especially with this. Its not like these letters are a huge secret that have been burning at my insides. The letters really arent anything at all. Well, at least the one half. I'm not so sure about the other half though.  
I remember writing the first letter like it was yesterday.  
  
_Flashback_

I looked at the paper. It looked so clean, nothing but straight horizontal blue lines and a single pink vertical margin. I didn't plan on keeping that piece of paper blank for long. But what to write on it? I still wasn't sure what to write when I picked up the pen. I didn't know what to write, but I just wrote anyway.  
_Dear Sydney,  
Where are you right now? Why aren't you here, beside me? Why aren't we picking out wedding halls or bridesmaids outfits or a house to move into together? Is this my fault? It probably is. I should have never left you alone with Alison. If I had just spent the night with you, this would have never happened, and we would have gone to Santa Barbara, and we would have come back engaged, and now we'd either be married or incredibly close to it. But reality? In reality you're dead, six feet under ground and I'm here, feeling lonelier than ever.  
It's really almost pathetic how I live now. I go to work, and I miss you desperately. I watch a hockey game, and miss you desperately. I feed my dog, and I miss you desperately. My pager goes off, and I want to throw it into the Pacific. And then you know what happens? I miss you desperately. I bet you didn't see that one coming.  
So, what else is there to say? Your father's doing okay, I think. He's acting a little odd, but nothing major. He's just not around a lot. We all miss you. Will's in witness protection. He healed completely. At least physically.  
Weiss is being Weiss. That's really all I have to say about that. Marshall is still talking all the time, which of course means he hasn't really changed, and me, obviously, by reading this you can tell that I can no longer talk to you without sounding like an idiot. Well , I actually have to go now so well, bye.  
Love you Always,  
Vaughn._

I stared at the letter. It sounded stupid. I was about to crumple the paper and throw it away, but a thought struck me. Even if there was some great power and such thing as life after death, and Sydney was going to read it, would she really care if it sounded stupid. It's Sydney, I'm pretty sure she would get the point.

_End Flashback_  
  
Needless to say, I ended up putting the letter in an envelope, and putting it at the foot of her gravestone. I think that writing that letter was purely to feel closer to Sydney, like she was still there, but without feeling crazy, which I always felt when I talked to her, and, well, she wasn't there.  
I watched as Lauren put down the first letter and pick up the second.


	3. too much thinking

Disclaimer: I know nothing. I mean, I own nothing. Actually, what do I know? hmmm. I know I should stop typing the disclaimer that no longer has anything to do with a disclaimer except for the one part which is the disclaimer. Oh yah, that made sense.  
  
Author Notes: Once again, thanks a million to my sweet, sweet reviewers. You're really great. And sorry its been a while since I updated. I've been kinda busy. I also apologize if this chapter blows chunks but I have a lot on my mind (best friend likes same guy as me... complicated) and I just hit my head really hard but I'll try anyway.  
  
The letter shouldn't have bothered me. It was simply a man missing his dead girlfriend. He didn't even know me at that point. But the letter did bother me. It bothered me how upset he sounded. It bothered me how sweet he sounded. It bothered me that it wasn't me he was writing to. Which is quite ridiculous. It did not bother me that I wasn't the one attacked and kidnapped by the enemy, then thought dead, and then wake up and realise that two years have passed by. That is not a very nice thing.  
But I realised it was Michael and Sydney's relationship I was jealous of. If I dropped dead, Michael would be upset, I know, probably even depressed. I mean, I am his wife. But would his life go into a downward spiral, until he no barely talked to anyone but his mind? I think not.  
But, of course, it was different with him and Sydney. Well, obviously it was. She wasn't hired to make him fall in love with her, it came to her naturally.  
At that very moment I realised why I was so jealous of her. To make Michael fall in love with me, I had to study him, and then plan my meeting with him, and then of course the countless attempts at getting him to ask me out. Which, by the way, never worked. I ended up asking him. I had to make him fall in love with me. But, of course, all Sydney had to do is walk into a building and let him lay eyes on her.  
Ok, I'm exaggerating a little bit. But I do know that the first mission she went on for the CIA, Michael risked his position for her. Ok, exaggerating again, but still! It was really brave of him to stick up for her. I also know that he was worried sick the first time he didn't know where she was. I mean, for god's sake! They barely knew eachother! And he's the kind of guy who's usually hell bent on following the rules! It would be incredibly sweet if it weren't my husband. That just makes it incredibly sickening.  
I was still holding the second letter. I hadn't moved since I picked it up. I wondered for a minute what could he say next. Maybe they were all the same idea. Simply "I miss you, how are you?" Or maybe it's "I met this woman and she's a total witch but I'm going to marry her because I want to get back at you for dying."  
Wow, when you're a lying traitor, you can really busy up you're mind wondering if you're the one who's really being played. Or maybe, that's just if your name is Lauren Reed.  
I was tired of wondering. I opened the second letter.  
  
_ Dear Sydney  
I wasn't exactly planning on writing you again. But something came up and I thought I should share with you. I met someone. Its been five months now, and I should be over you by now. Then why do I feel so guilty? Her name's Lauren. I met her last month at a coffee shop. I go there daily. She's been trying to hint me into asking her out. I was about to finally actually do it, but she ended up asking me first. We're going to dinner this Friday. She's pretty, and sweet, but I still feel weird. I think it's because she's not you. She's so different than you. She's blonde, and has different values than you, and I don't know, like, it's just that everything that she does reminds me of you because it's the complete opposite of what you would do. I'm a hopeless case, did you know that? I think you've wrecked me for life. But I'm going out with her Friday, and I'm going to try and have a good time, and maybe find something between us that I didn't notice before. Maybe It's there, Maybe it's not. But I highly doubt it will ever amount to what we had or have or, I don't know I'm confused now._  
  
I went to rest my face in my hand, but when I touched my face, my hand became wet. I didn't realise I was crying. But it wasn't that surprising. I mean, this was a sappy movie. Except it was was real life and my husband. And what he said was right. Me and Michael have something, but he and Sydney have something better. And my something can't ever compare to Sydney's something. All this thinking was very depressing. I went back to reading.  
  
_ Confused seems to be my thing lately. Confused about us, confused about Lauren, Confused about life. Are you starting to see a pattern? O, wow, I feel pathetic now. I wish you could reply to me so I could ask your opinion of the situation. Except, you know, If you were able to reply, I wouldn't be in this situation, but still. Well, I have to go.  
  
Missing you forever,  
M. Vaughn_  
  
It was so sweet. Their relationship was beautiful, and amazing, and probably be able to survive through anything, except for the one thing that no one let them survive through. Which happened to be The people I work for kidnapping and trying to brainwash Sydney, while everyone else thought she was dead, and then me, throwing myself at Michael in his depressed state, playing with his mind and creating a character to become that he would like and eventually fall in love with. But, of course, up until now, I was naive. I was oblivious to what I was dealing with, what I was fighting against. And in some ways, I won. I know Michael isn't planning on leaving me soon. But I can't tell If its that he really loves me and is completely over Sydney, or he just wants to be a man of his word and stick to his wedding vows and he wishes everytime he looks at me (or Sydney) that he could just dump me on the side of the road and run to the one he really loves. Oh, how did I get myself into this mess?  
  
**Across Town at Sydney's Place**

_A dark room. _

_A dead man. _

_A strand of blonde hair in front of her face. _

_Lazarey. His hand. _

_A short man behind a desk. _

_The old warehouse. _

_Vaughn. _

_A bundle of letters._  
  
Sydney woke with a jolt. She shot from sleeping to sitting up, which caused little stars to dance in front her eyes. She understand most of the dream. They were her memories, the ones she didn't really have. But what were these clips of with man at he desk, and Vaughn and the letters? She didn't get it. She wasn't sure she wanted to get it. It was early, but she wanted to go back to sleep. So she did.


	4. dates and dreams

Disclaimer: I own me(maybe). I possibly own my brain (or a brain of any sort). Might own my clothes. But Alias? You've gotta be kidding me. No, I leave that to the smart people. (basically I'm saying that JJ Abrams and them people own Alias, and Kelly Clarkson and RCA own the song Beautiful Disaster)  
  
Authors Notes: I would just like to thank you reviewers again. You're so wonderful, and It's because of you that I keep writing this story.  
  
**----Vaughn----**  
After I realised that Lauren was crying, I couldn't watch anymore. I knew I should stop her, but I didn't. It was probably too late now. To stop her, I mean. The best thing would for her to be to read them all. Or at least the first half. After that, I don't know if I want to explain that whole thing. Because then, I would most probably have to tell Sydney. Now, I'm afraid that Sydney won't ever forgive me for what I've done. You know, what with sort of rubbing my marriage in her face, giving her all this false hope, it's just not cool, and I hate myself for all of it. But the point is, that if I tell her this, I doubt she'll ever speak to me again.  
  
**----Lauren----**  
After the first two letters, I stopped analyzing everything that was said on the page. I just sat and read, soaked it in. It became a cycle. Pick up a letter, open the envelope, read the page, fold it back and return it to it's rightful place.  
  
_ Dear Syd,_

_ I went on that date with Lauren. It was nice. Really awkward but nice. All in all, I had fun. I think I'm falling for this girl. Which is why I need to write this now._  
  
Okay okay. Just because I didn't analyze everything didn't mean I didn't think about some of the stuff. And this particular letter brought back a distinct memory.  
  
** Flashback**  
  
I stood, shivering in the cold. I really hoped he hadn't gotten lost. I was wearing a simple black dress, and It was rather flattering on me, but did nothing whatsoever to keep out the cold. LA wasn't the coldest place on earth, but once you live there, you get fairly adjusted to the high temperatures, the chilly night temperature in light clothing can really get to you. Especially in December. I wrapped my grey shawl tighter around my shoulder. I was seriously thinking about turning around and going back inside when Michael's car pulled up. And he stepped out. His eyes widened.  
"Lauren," he said loudly. "You must be freezing."  
I smiled. Always a gentleman. I thought. "I'm a little chilly," said softly. "But I think I'll live."  
I got into the car. The ride there was mostly quiet. They finally pulled in to a little parking lot. A small neon sign said Roanies.  
"Have you ever been here?" Michael asked me, cocking his head a little to the side as he turned to look at me. I don't know how he does it. He does something so simple that makes you feel like the most important person in the world.  
"No," I said, smirking a little. "Have you?"  
"No," he said, and all of a sudden he was grinning. I was trying very hard to control my breathing and heartbeat. I had to stop looking into his eyes. Oh, those eyes. One glance into the green pools threatens to pull you in forever. And at that moment, I was doing everything I could not to fall in love. I wasn't exactly being successful. Which was bad.  
We stepped into the restaurant. It was dimly lit, with dark walls, yet there was still a homey comfortable feel about it. There were booths and tables set all around the edges, and a dance floor in the center. A young girl with a sweet face and red curly hair came bouncing up with a grin on her face. "Seating for two?"  
  
later on that night  
  
"What did your father say?" Michael had his eyebrows raised at me, and his face was trying to conceal a smile, but wasn't doing very well.  
"Well, when he discovered Timmy was in my closet, he grounded me for a week and dumped him in the forest." I said, putting on my best trying to be sad but aren't really face.  
"I still can't believe you kept a chicken in your closet." He said, chuckling.  
"For the last time," I said exasperated. "Timmy was a pheasant. Pheasants are nothing like chickens. Other than the whole bird thing." But I couldn't help but chuckle myself.  
A slow song came on over the speakers. Michael smiled. "Would you like to dance?" he asked me.  
I grinned. "I'd love to," I replied.  
He stood up, and grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor. It was a simple gesture, but it just made it that much more romantic.  
  
_He drowns in his dreams _

_An exquisite extreme , I know _

_He's as damned as he seems _

_And more heaven than a heart could hold  
  
_

_And If I tried to save him _

_My whole heart could cave in _

_It just ain't right _

_It just ain't right_  
  
He was a great dancer. I couldn't help but feel safe in his arms as he guided me across the floor. And the lyrics of the song started to haunt my thoughts as I wondered how I ever fell in love with an assignment.  
  
_Oh, and I don't know_

_I don't know what he's after_

_But he's so beautiful_

_Such a beautiful disaster  
  
And if I could hold on_

_Through the tears and the laughter_

_Would it be beautiful_

_Or just a beautiful disaster?_  
  
I knew what a mess I was in. Being in love was the main cause for screw ups on an assignment of this sort. But truthfully I didn't care. I fell in love with being in love with him. I felt like a schoolgirl, and I liked that feeling.  
  
_His magic and myth_

_ As strong as what I believe_

_A tragedy with_

_More damage than a soul should see.  
  
And do I try to change him_

_So hard not to blame him_

_ Hold on tight_

_Hold on tight_  
  
I was terrified of my situation. Not only was falling in love against the rules of my game, but this man was still getting over his last girlfriend. That wouldn't matter if I was able to think rational thoughts. But no, every time I attempted one, I would just look back into Michael's eyes, and nothing was left except awe of this beautiful but damaged man. It was just like the song said. A beautiful disaster.  
  
_Oh, 'cause I don't know_

_I don't know what he's after_

_But he's so beautiful_

_Such a beautiful disaster  
  
And if I could hold on_

_ Through the tears and the laughter_

_Would it be beautiful,_

_ Or just a beautiful disaster?_  
  
Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Michael twirled me. Once again, I wondered what is was about him that was able to make something so simple, so amazing. But maybe that was it. Maybe it was so simple, it was brilliant. But when I came back to face him. He had a far-off sadness in his eyes and I knew a thought of Sydney had crossed his mind. I touched the side of his face gingerly.  
"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what else there was to say. He smiled sweetly at me.  
"Don't be sorry," he said simply and pulled me in tighter.  
  
_I'm longing for love and the logical_

_But he's only happy hysterical_

_I'm waiting for some kind of miracle_

_Waited so long_

_So long_

_He's soft to the touch_

_ But frayed at the end he breaks_

_He's never enough_

_And still leaves more than I can take._  
  
Then it was gone. The music still played, but I don't think either of us heard or cared. "Do you wanna get out of here?" Michael asked me.  
I smiled a little. "Sort of." He grabbed my hand and pulled me across the restaurant. We payed for our food, and he dragged me out to his car.  
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked Michael, while grinning my ridiculously.  
He smirked playfully. "You'll see," he said.  
  
About ten minutes later we arrived somewhere. I couldn't tell where it was because the minute we got there, Michael raced to shut off the car, and he cupped his hands over my eyes. He then had to help me out of the car, then over bumps and whatnot. I trusted him completely the whole way. I was so screwed.  
He finally took his hands away from my eyes. I gasped in delight. We were in a park of some sort. There was this tree. Not really tall, but thick and strong, and hanging from one of its branches was one of those old fashioned swings, the one with the board and two ropes. But what I was gasping at was the view. Now I've seen LA city lights before. And they're pretty I suppose, But they could never compare to that view.  
This was a giant hill, overlooking a residential area and each house was covered in Christmas decorations. There were light-up Santas and reindeer, mini blimp snow men and elves, and little white, red, green and blue lights twinkled everywhere you looked.  
"It's beautiful," I whispered.  
Michael grinned. "Shall we sit?" I smiled and nodded. We squished together on the big but not exactly made for two people swing. Michael was talking about something. Sunsets in France, I think.  
"You aren't really listening, are you?" He asked me.  
I tore my eyes awayfrom the lights to throw him an apologetic look. "Sorry," I said. "There's just so much to see out there."  
He looked at me, and smiled a bit. I looked back at him. Our faces inched closer and closer until our lips met.  
It was most definitely better than the view. By a long shot. And somehow, the music started playing again. Perhaps only in my head, but it seemed much more vivid.  
  
_Oh, 'cause I don't know_

_I don't know what he's after_

_ But he's so beautiful_

_Such a beautiful disaster  
  
And if I could hold on_

_Through the tears and the laughter_

_Would it be beautiful_

_Or just a beautiful disaster?_  
  
**End Flashback**  
  
I don't particularly remember much after that. Once he kissed me, everything became a little blurry.  
I shook my head and went back to reading the letter.  
  
_ Dear Syd,_

_ I went on that date with Lauren. It was nice. Really awkward but nice. All in all, I had fun. I think I'm falling for this girl. Which is why I need to write this now. It's been a long time, and I need to get over you and get on with my life. I mean, your a truly amazing person and I'll love you forever, but I need to try and stop being in love with you. Because your just not around to be in love with me back. This is my last letter to you. I realise my letters are only a way to struggle to hold onto you, which isn't even working that well. But it was nice, feeling like I was getting through to you, but I don't think I am. But if I am, you have to know how much I love and will always love you, but now, I need to make some space in my heart for someone new.  
Love you forever,  
Vaughn_  
  
So that was it? He went on a date with me and all those issues just went away? But there were still so many letters left. Did he just have all his letters from everywhere in this bundle? Those letters were quite personal, and I feel bad for invading that (sort of), but thats not the point. The point is, people don't usually keep their private personal letters with everything else. The hide them in their sock drawers, or under floor boards, or in secret compartments inside secret hideaways- actually, that last one's probably just me.  
I picked up the next envelope. Sure enough, It said To Sydney. I opened it and began to read.  
  
**----Sydney----**

_The short man behind the desk was looking at me skeptically. "I usually give them to Kendall," he said.  
"And he usually gives them to me, I swear." I said, with absolutely no emotion on my face or in my voice. It creeped me out actually, to be so emotionless. Me and the man behind the desk argued for quite a while until he finally handed over the letter.  
"Thank you," I said briskly, but he never replied. I walked away. I wanted so much to rip open the letter, but I couldn't, not until I was safely out of sight. It was a big risk, going i there at all myself, taking an envelope the said Sydney on it. I got into the back of the limousine. I carefully and slowly ripped open the envelope. I unfolded the page and--_  
  
THUD!!!!!!

"Mmmm," I groaned, frowning at the dull pain in my left shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked around. I had fallen off my bed. Fallen off my bed? What was I, four years old? I really didn't care about that though, what I really cared about was that my dream was interrupted. I mean, that doesn't happen to me. I realised I was dreaming, yet I had no control over what was happening, It was like I was in a movie. Or a memory. That was why I found it so important to continue the dream. But I doubted that would happen. So I went back to bed.

Authors notes- I just have to tell everyone, that writing this chapter was really weird for me, because I am a huge SV shipper, but the point I want to get across here is that Vaughn wasn't being a jackass when he got over Sydney


	5. forgetting to breathe

Disclaimer: As you must know by now, i most definitely don't own Alias, or anything else, so lets move on.  
  
A/N: I had such writer's block with this you wouldn't believe it. But, alas, I pulled this together anyway. I hope it gets better response than last chapter. reviewers- still love u all.  
  
**----Lauren's POV----**  
  
As I said, I was quite confused with Michael's last letter. But I knew the only way to figure it all out was move on to the next.  
  
_ Dear Sydney,  
  
I am a terrible liar. I know that its already been three months since I said I wasn't going to write anymore. I haven't stopped thinking about that letter since I placed it on your gravestone. If I still write, that doesn't mean I'm still in love with you, does it? I mean, we were good friends before we- I think I may be getting ahead of myself. All I'm trying to say is that I'm still allowed to miss you, and I don't see how it would be wrong to write as a friend. You know, other than the whole, "you're dead" part. Yeah, I'm still a little bitter about that part. But yeah, not as much. Finally going out to get myself a life. Oh, wow, I hope you don't mind me getting a life do you? And if you laugh, well, just don't laugh 'cause I was serious. Really. I don't mean in any way to offend you by moving on. You know, If you even are reading these things. I like to think that you are. It makes me feel... uncrazy. Which actually makes no sense whatsoever, because you're dead, and it's a little weird thinking that a dead person is reading mail from me. But, who cares? Anyways, I'll write again soon, but I have to run._  
  
I didn't even bother having any deep thoughts and just moved on to the next letter.  
  
_ Dear Syd,  
  
Lauren and I got in a fight. It was our first big fight ever._  
  
I guess this made up for the last letter. Because once again, I was struck with a vivid memory.  
  
_Flashback_  
  
I was standing in the CIA office, speaking with with a man named Marshall Flinkman, while waiting for one of the directors. I can't recall which one I meant to speak with.   
  
"Lauren Reed," he said. "Sounds familiar. It's actually really weird that I can't place you because I usually have a photographic memory. I mean, it's impossible to usually have a photographic memory, you either have it or you don't, and having one is really cool, because you remember everything, except for when you don't, like I don't right now, but what I was-" He stopped, and his eyes widened. "Lauren Reed, as in Senator Reed's daughter, as in Agent Vaughn's new girlfriend."   
  
I nearly choked on some water I was drinking. "Agent Vaughn? You mean to tell me that Michael Vaughn works here? As an agent?"  
  
Marshall looked incredibly distressed. "You mean?- You didn't?- he never? Well I just don't get why he" I never got the rest of what he was saying, as I saw Michael standing in the middle of the office, laughing with Eric and a few other guys.  
  
I felt my cheeks getting hot and anger building up inside. It was so funny, how this happened. I mean really, I knew. I knew exactly who he worked for. But, in a way, I had forgotten. I had become so lost in this world that I had forgotten why I was there in the first place. There were two different people inside me. There was Lauren, the traitorous plotting bad girl, and then there was the other Lauren, the innocent daddy's girl who just happened to be dating Michael Vaughn. One of which had no idea Michael Vaughn was a CIA agent.  
  
I walked up to Michael. "So you work here do you?" I spat at him angrily. I don't think I've ever seen him look more surprised.   
  
"Lauren?" He asked, his eyes wide opened and his mouth hanging open just the slightest. "What in the world are you doing here?"  
  
I never bothered answering. Instead I just began yelling. "You could never think to perhaps slip it into conversation somewhere. You didn't even have to say it straight out. But you know, It would be a little nice to know-" I was cut off.This was bad news for me, because before this interruption, all Michael could really do was stand there with that shocked lookon his face. But Someone came out and said. "Ms. Reed? Kendall will see you now." Aha! that was who it was. God. Why talk to Kendall? Anyways, back to the story.   
  
"Ahhhh," Eric said quietly. "And the plot thickens." I glared, but Michael wasn't paying attention. He was too busy seething.   
  
"What was that I heard?" He said, eyes dancing in anger like flames. "You're going to see Kendall. Hmm, and would be your job? Hmm. Sounds a bit like a hipocrit to me!" I was caught red-handed, and I didn't know what to do about that So I just began yelling. And Michael yelled back. And everyone else stared at us. I walked off in a huff, never even bothering to talk to Kendall.  
  
_End Flashback  
_  
I skipped over all he said about me "finding out" he was CIA and my being what I was because, well, I had just been through all that. So, moving on.   
  
We ended up both realising how idiotic we were being and made up.  
  
I read on, through his many letters to Sydney. Many were about myself, but a lot weren't. Michael and Sydney had a bond, that not even death could break. It didn't matter that Sydney wasn't even dead. They were separated by death, but they still had their "Thing."  
  
I have a thing with Michael, too. It involves a few rings, some pieces of paper, and a memory of a wonderful party. It's called marriage. I think I'd rather have the other one.   
  
I came to another letter that struck me as a little odd.  
  
_ Dear Sydney  
  
Today, I am getting married. I actually found some time to sit down and right you a letter through all this hectic- hecticness. And don't even bother telling me its not a word. But this ones important. I have to stop writing these letters. For real, this time. I have to move on, to a new life. Plus, your really doing a number on my stationery. So, I love you. For All Time. And goodbye.  
  
Love, Vaughn_  
  
It was- short. But that wasn't what struck me as odd. I was only about half way through the pile. He wouldn't do the same thing twice. Would he? But when I looked at the next envelope, I saw something a little unsettling. I've worked around Sydney Bristow long enough to learn what her hand writing looks like, and the quickly scrawled Vaughn on that envelope looked a little too familiar.  
  
_**Sydney's POV**  
  
I chewed my nail a little before I picked up the phone. I flipped it open, and shakily dialed the numbers. I couldn't remember being this nervous. I hit send and brought the phone to my ear. It rang three times and then.   
  
"Vaughn." His voice soothed me. My breath returned to me.   
  
"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I must have the wrong number. I was looking for Joeys pizza." I said in a sort of southern drawl. There was silence first. I prayed that he realised it was me.  
  
And then it came. He choked out the words, but they came. "Um, yeah, yeah this is the wrong number"  
  
And there was nothing left to do but wait. I had already done a bugsweep of the warehouse, while putting off calling him. So I sat down and looked around. I was overwhelmed by all the memories of Vaughn and myself. After a while, I heard a door slam. Footsteps. I suddenly felt really nervous again. But then he walked into the warehouse, and I saw his face. His face brought me back to earth. All that was important now, was for us, to hold eachother, to be connected. I stood up and we hugged. It was like breathing again, being able to touch him. It had been so long that I had forgotten how to breathe. But he was there, and I remembered.  
  
"I can't stay for long," was all I said. I finally pulled away. "Listen," I told him softly. "About your letters. I got them all."_  
  
TBC...... 


	6. hate and intimidation

Disclaimer: You guys probably know by now that Alias is very much not mine. Wahh!

A/N: Ok, I'll tell you what. You can all just shoot me now. I'm pretty sure you guys must have forgotten this story existed. I am a horrible, horrible person who deserves to be ignored. But please don't ignore me. Because I love it whjen you guys review. It makes me so happy inside.

**----Sydney's POV----**

_"About your letters. I got them all." _

_I was fairly amused by the look of shock on his face. The look of shock which had been absent when he walked into the warehouse and saw it was actually me. Almost like he had been expecting me to be alive. Which of course he hadn't. He couldn't have._

I actually had a semi-conscious thought for a moment. I recalled thinking that same thing when he arrived in Hong Kong. I distinctly remember finding it a little strange how calm he had been. He had seemed stressed, but as if it were over something like a simple mission with a few minor complications. I had decided it must have been the time on the plane that he had to think about it, though in my heart I knew something weird was going on. And it obviously had been, judging by what I was almost sure was a memory. But then what did this feeling mean?

_I tried my best to ignore the feeling and continued because Vaughn didn't exactly look like he was about to reply to anything._

_"I dont have enough time to explain fully, and even if I did, there would only be so much I could explain without putting both of us in danger. I replied all your letters, and my letters give as much information as I can let you have." He gave me a sort of look, as if he wanted to say something in his defense, but was just speechless. So I just kept talking._

_"I wasn't even going to stay. I was just going to leave the letters on a crate. Something told me to stay. Mostly because I need to apologize in person for the way I know I will act when I come back in a couple of weeks."_

_He finally said something. "You're coming back?"_

_I smiled a little sadly. "Yeah," I said. "But I won't remember the last two years, which means the last thing I'm gonna remember will be from the time that we were still dating, which means I might be a little pissed that your married." For the last part, I looked down and started talking a little faster than normal._

_When I looked up, Vaughn was laughing at me. I didn't really get it, and I don't think he did either, but I broke into a grin too. I think it had to do with just being able to look at eachother again. We fell back into eachothers arms._

_"What I need you to do," I told him. "Is really enjoy the next few weeks, ok?_

_"I really have to go," I half said, half whispered. I kissed him on the cheek, and walked away, leaving the letters behind me_

My eyes opened. It was the strangest thing. Me talking to Vaughn, before I came back. It really didn't make sense, then again, it didn't really have to. Because it was me and Vaughn. And we never really made sense in the first place.

**----Lauren's POV----**

I did not hesitate to rip open that particular letter. And I have to say I was a little disturbed by what I found. Well, I wasn't disturbed, but I was disturbed by the fact that I wasn't that disturbed by the letter. I wasn't even that surprised, really.

_Dear Vaughn,_

_The first thing I have to say is never, ever blame yourself for this. And I know you will anyway, but don't. Things happen. Lives change. And sometimes its hurtful and terrible, but that what life is about, isn't it? It's never really been a bundle of joy with us, has it? And trust me, I would love nothing better than to be picking out chapels and wedding decor with you, but its not happening, is it. And I'm so glad that you wrote me. Don't ever think that you don't know how to talk to me because you will always know exactly what to say to make me feel better. Thats why I risked my cover to get this letter when I heard about it. And I honestly wish I could tell you more about my life, but it would put both our lives in more trouble than ever before. Wow, that came out cryptic. I honestly don't mean to be freakishly cryptic. Anyways, I'd write longer, but I really have to go so... Goodbye_

_Love,_

_Sydney_

_PS- Maybe one day we will be picking out chapels and wedding decor._

The first thought that came to my mind when I finished was _Well, that was a depressing letter. _The only thing more depressing than a man writing letters to his dead girlfriend, was his dead girlfriend actually just being captured and forced to pretend she was something she was not, then getting, the letter, and replying it. Its obvious that she never got to send him any for a long time, being that all his letters reflected the fact that he believed her to be dead. But it didnt arise any deep thoughts, so I moved on to the next letter

_Dear Vaughn_

_I think its wonderful that you've met someone. I mean, if I were to meet her I would probably hate her, kind of the way I hated Alice (Please don't tell Alice I hated her, because she seemed like such a nice girl but... yeah I hated her) I have to be honest that it made me smile when you came right out and said she was blonde. You have a thing for them, don't you? Blondes, I mean. I remember that one day when I found an old photo album of yours, and so many blonde girls at your side. I have to say, I felt really intimidated looking at that. But I suppose thats not really relevant. I also suppose that it doesn't matter that it's not relevant, because its us. But anyways, I really should be getting to the point. Of course you should date this girl. I mean, I can't expect you to just sit around and wait for me to pop back for the dead. As long as were being honestly, I'd really like it if you waited for me, but its not like I plan to Pop any time soon. But yeah, date this girl, have fun, she sounds nice. I wish I could meet her so I could hate her fairly. Haha_

_Love,_

_Sydney_

_PS- I'm sorry for hating everyone you date other than myself. It's really rather selfish of me._

How did she do it? How did she just put out her spiteful feelings and make them sound totally alright? I could never just tell Michael that I was intimidated by Sydney and that I hated her without it sound like I was a horrible, ungrateful bitch. But, you know what? I think I just might be a horrible ungrateful bitch. And there's really nothing I can do about it, but get over it. I picked up the next letter and just stared at it for a little while.

A/N- So that was weird. I have to tell you, that I didn't mean to not write for months at time, but every time I looked at this I just couldn't write it So I'm very sorry about that whole thing. I will try my best to update ASAP next time. I have it planned out and everything, so it shouldn't be too difficult, escpecially with Winter Break. Next Chapter, I will wrap up all the letters.


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